Weighing Words
by NoelleWynters
Summary: The path to redemption is lonely, and sometimes you're the only one that will ever know the outcome.


_Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun._

_This was written for an amnesty challenge where you could use any of the previous prompts. The one used for this is **apology**._

If he could find everyone he'd offended, all the people he'd hurt intentionally and unintentionally alike, he would speak words of apology and actually mean them. He would beg their forgiveness, and if they refused he would accept their dislike of him, and learn to live with it. He didn't deserve anyone's forgiveness if the truth were told, but if they could find it in their hearts to bestow such upon him, he would gladly take it and be appreciative.

But he knew that was never going to come to pass, Cyrus had made horrible mistakes and he was paying for them. Despite all the time he spent alone, he truly couldn't remember every transgression now. It had been centuries ago that he'd been a mortal; at least he was certain it was centuries. It was difficult to tell the passage of time when you were locked away in a bottle. There were times when he was summoned he knew not much time had gone by since his last master, but other instances he knew he'd been left forgotten for years, if not decades.

That had been difficult at first, knowing he was now enslaved to the race he once counted himself among. He wasn't used to being forgotten, even when he was being horrible to people, they never ignored him. Not that they liked having him around, and thinking back he couldn't exactly blame them either. He had been a horrid, arrogant and selfish person. He only thought of himself, for the most part. It didn't matter to him who he hurt; his own wants and needs were all that mattered.

Of course, as with everything, there was an exception to the rule: his mother. He adored her, and would do anything for her. When he was with his mother he was a very different person. The arrogance melted away and he was very amiable and actually rather sweet natured in her presence, but she brought out the best in everyone she met. He was normally fairly pleasant with his brother as well, although like all siblings they did fight but made attempts to keep that from their mother, as it would normally upset her.

Cyrus glanced down at the compass in his hand again, sighing. It had been a very, very long time since it had stopped pointing. Now all it did was spin around in circles, never stopping. She had given it to him the last time they were together, which was a fairly dire situation in itself. His bad behaviour had finally caught up with him, and come hell or high water all the people he'd offended and hurt were going to punish him for all eternity.

He may have forgotten many of his transgression that had sent him down the path to his current life, but he never forgot the last time he'd been in the company of his mother. The way she'd placed the compass, also called a lost and found, in his hands, clasping her slender ones over his and telling him no matter where he ended up through the punishment awaiting him, it would always point him to her. It was a slight comfort when he'd been taken from her side.

No one asked if he would change his ways, but it would have been pointless. He would have simply lied and they had his brother present, if anyone would be able to see through his words and find the falsehoods within, it was him. Cyrus knew there was no point wasting his breath, not to say he didn't want to argue whatever awful fate that awaited. He wasn't sure what exactly they had planned for him, but he certainly hadn't even entertained what they had in mind.

Sorcerers were never people to mess with, he knew that very well. That was why the one person in the town he never bothered was the one who knew magic. Evidently though, he'd angered some of the man's friends. That was not one of his smarter moves; he had to admit to himself, as he felt the spell being cast upon him. They called it a spell, but he knew it was a curse.

Spells normally could be broken, curses were a trickier thing. And if these people were going to all this effort to punish him, he knew full well there would be something in the words being spoken to keep him from ever being free again. A punishment this severe would not be something lightly given.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, there was no point dwelling in a place he could not return. The past was what it was, and nothing could change it. He had learned his lesson, it had taken some time but he'd finally seen the error to his selfish ways.

That isn't to say he hadn't given it his best shot to try to trick some masters earlier on in his existence as a genie into freeing him. A few had, with their last wish, and he'd always end up right back in his bottle within days. But that wasn't what had finally shown him where he'd gone wrong in life.

He would never forget one particular master, he wasn't sure how long he'd been a genie when that man found his bottle, but he knew he was reaching his breaking point. His arrogance had faded significantly, and he had nothing of value so he certainly had lost any selfish tendencies. He was not the person he once was anymore, he still hated his lot in life and had a bad habit of raising the ire of any of his masters when provoked, but he not longer was the young man he had been.

This master though, he was the most arrogant man Cyrus had ever met in all the years or decades he'd lived up to that point. People had thought him a horrible person, and he was humbled enough by that juncture in time to admit he was everything they'd said he was, but he had been nothing in comparison to this man.

The man was miserable to everyone; those around him and even his family. Cyrus didn't care that he was normally being treated poorly, it was something he'd become accustom to as he really wasn't a person so much as a possession. He'd accepted that. Some were good to him, some treated him with indifference but this one could only be described as evil.

This master was well off, in truth he could want or wish for nothing; he had everything. And yet he took advantage of everyone he met; he terrorized his wife and belittled his children in a horrible fashion. Cyrus had been rather appalled by the man's attitude and had made the mistake, if it could be called that, of speaking up when he was talking harshly to one of his daughters, to the point of making the young girl cry.

And that was the day Cyrus learned that silver and genies do not get along. It was a painful lesson to learn, and he never stepped out of line with anyone again after that.

Shaking his head slightly in an effort to clear his mind of memories, he replaced the compass inside his vest. It was funny how the phrase_ I'm sorry_ ran through his mind so often, it had taken on different connotations over the centuries.

First he was sorry he'd been caught.

Next he was sorry he'd not fought back to try to avoid his punishment.

As the years went by, he was sorry he'd not tricked more people into wishing him free, maybe one time it would have stuck.

Eventually he was sorry he'd managed to trick those masters into wasting one of their wishes for his own selfish desire.

Finally, he was sorry for all the pain he'd caused. To everyone, he no longer felt sorry for himself, he'd done this all on his own. The blame fell completely on his shoulders, and he would live with it for an eternity.

He smiled sadly, recalling how some people present as he was being cursed to the life of a genie had commented that he'd never learn, he would never change his ways. How wrong they were, he had learned his lesson and repented. He no longer tried to trick anyone who found him into freeing him, and he served every master to the best of his ability. This was his life now, and would always be.

A personal redemption, but it would never be known to anyone but himself. And maybe that was all that mattered.


End file.
